


A Little More Than Superstition

by DeredereWrites



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I have no beta reader, I wanted to write Aziraphale and Crowley as teachers and this is the result, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Its only mentioned but better be safe rather than sorry, My first multi chapter fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Supernatural season seven ish, The two Crowleys are not the same person, Tw for ghost character who committed suicide, Well first posted multi chapter fic, but only for good omens, i dont know what im doing, im so sorry, its a crossover, unedited, will add tags as the story goes on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 01:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20145559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeredereWrites/pseuds/DeredereWrites
Summary: A couple strange deaths of coworkers of a friend of Anathema's catches Aziraphale and Crowley's attention. It also catches Sam and Dean's attention. Long summary short, Crowley is actually good at teaching middle school students.~This story is purely the effect of the author wanting to write the Ineffable Husbands as teachers and wanting to write a crossover with Good Omens and Supernatural but not coming up with any good scenarios. So you get this.





	1. Chapter 1

Aziraphale gave the woven basket one more look before looking up towards the second level of the house he and Crowley owned. 

“Are you ready yet?” Aziraphale called.

“Almost. Gimme one more minute, Angel,” Crowley responded.

Aziraphale sighed fondly. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

“No, wait, I’m here!” Crowley responded, speeding down the stairs with a dark red picnic blanket in hand.

“Oh, I almost forgot we needed that. Thank you for grabbing it, Love,” Aziraphale smiled and kissed Crowley shortly. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can remember. I think we're good,” Crowley said.

The two exited the house, walking to the old Bently parked outside. Of course there were quicker ways to get to their destination, but the couple found they rather liked long car trips like the one to Tadfield they were about to take. They'd gotten together less than a year after Armageddidn’t and had gotten married after ten years of dating. It'd been fifteen years since Apoca-let’s-not and they were happier than ever with both heaven and hell out of the picture and they were free to be who they wanted.

They mentored Adam in how to use his powers safely, helped with his schoolwork, and generally became a second set of parents. Anathema and Newt got married three years after meeting and had three kids, the oldest going on eight and the youngest three. They had a rocky start, but everything was going smoothly. Both Brian and Pepper moved out of Tadfield at one point, Brian moving with his parents to a bigger city because of a job opportunity when he was sixteen, and Pepper for college, getting a degree in law. She was determined to make a change to the world, one way or another. Despite that, The Them kept in touch and talked regularly. 

The car ride to Tadfield was nice, as was the weather. A perfect day for a picnic. The two were meeting with Anathema, Newt, Adam, and Wensleydale to catch up. It was always nice to see what they were up to. And Aziraphale had a story about something he’d witnessed in a shopping center about a week ago that he really wanted to tell. A lady fell flat on her face and not wanting the lady to be embarrassed, several other people followed her example. It was both the sweetest thing and the funniest thing the angel had seen in a while. (Thing that Crowley hadn't done or initiated, of course. He always knew exactly what to do to get a funny or sweet reaction from people. It was nice.) 

They finally reached their destination, even a bit early thanks to Crowley’s efficient (reckless) driving. Shortly after, the others arrived. It all went as usual, telling stories, catching up.

Adam said something about a case Pepper said she was helping with and how people made strange decisions, which caused Anathema to respond, “Right? I have a friend who works at this school as a teacher and two different coworkers of hers were murdered recently. I just don't get how people can do that to another person. She's completely freaked out, understandably. Taking some time off to get herself together.”

“Oh, the one from New York?” Aziraphale asked. At Anathema’s answering nod, he continued, “That's too bad. From what you’ve said before she sounds so nice. If you'd like, we can go check on her? Offer some protection just in case?”  
“You sure it's not too much trouble?” Anathema asked.

“Oh, of course it's not! Anything to help someone. Just a short trip, right Dear?” Aziraphale turned to Crowley.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, not challenging Aziraphale as he knew that Aziraphale would go whether he approved or not, but silently questioning why he had to go too. “Yeah, sure, but.. After lunch, okay Angel?”

“Okay,” Aziraphale smiled.

~~~~

Sam looked through the local papers of the New York town that he and Dean were passing through, searching for any possible cases. So far he’d found one, pretty close by too. Two teachers KOed in one night, both alone in their classrooms, the school closed and the doors to the classrooms locked. One teacher looked to have been bludgeoned to death with the amount of bruises around his body and the pile of (fairly bloody) dictionaries surrounding him. The other had been crushed by one of the ceiling lights falling on him, which hadn't been enough to kill him, but the shattered glass cutting into him did that well enough on its own. The light, upon further inspection, seemed to have been tampered with, specifically the bolts holding the thing up.

School was let out for a few days, understandably. So Sam and Dean conducted their own investigation, going through their normal routine, interviewing police, the coroner, coworkers, students. Elizabeth Rolen was just another person to go see.

She was a rather short woman, mid thirties with shoulder length dusty brown hair. When they went to see her, she was a mess. On alert constantly, wearing pajamas, squinting at everything (though that might have had something to do with the fact that there was a glasses case on her coffee table but no glasses on her face.). She even looked like she'd been crying, but it was hard to tell with her hair brushed in front of her eyes.

“Officers Isaac McKinley and Andrew Michealson, FBI,” Dean said when she opened the door.

“Oh, I guess you're here about Don and Richie. Come in,” Elizabeth said, opening the door enough to let the two in. 

As Sam stepped past the door frame, he felt something shift under his foot. He looked down. “Salt?”

“I have a friend who’s well versed in witchcraft. Salt’s supposed to keep out demons and spirits. It's all superstition, really,” Elizabeth said, looking mildly uncomfortable.

“Right,” Dean muttered as he entered the room and sat on the couch.

“So, was there anyone who maybe held a grudge against either of them?” Sam asked.

“Well, there are a lot of unhappy students.  
They’ve been around a while, both of them were my teachers when I went to middle school. Both really set in their way of doing things. But I can't imagine a student who would want to kill either of them, much less actually attempt it. As far as personal lives go, I don't know much. I don't think so, but neither were really the type to advertise their failures or regrets,” Elizabeth answered.

“Any strange rumors among the students that could mean anything? Perhaps someone who’s isolated from the others?” Sam asked.

Elizabeth thought for a moment. “Not any with credibility, but I once heard a student tell another that he thought Don was sleeping with another teacher's wife. The things that teens come up with is astonishing.”

“...Was he?” Dean asked.

“The other guy is both gay and single,” Elizabeth deadpanned. 

“Oh,” Dean blinked. “Did either of the victims act weird before they died?”

“No, both normal as far as I could tell,” Elizabeth said.

“Did you notice anything weird about their classrooms?” Sam asked.

“No, but I didn't go in them much so there could've been,” Elizabeth said.

“Alright, well, thank you for your time,” Dean said, standing up.

“One last question? The friend you mentioned earlier, the one familiar with witchcraft, what's their name?” Sam asked, standing.

“Anathema. Why? You don't think she had anything to do with this, do you?” Elizabeth asked, sounding annoyed.

“Well we have to cover all of our bases,” Dean answered.

“Well consider it covered, she lives in England,” Elizabeth told them.

And with a final goodbye, the two undercover hunters left.


	2. Chapter 2

“So why would someone want to kill that poor girl’s coworkers?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale shrugged. “Don't know. And how exactly did they do it anyway? They were alone, right?”

“I’m curious now. Do you think it could've been something inhuman? If it got through locked doors and was able to kill with books,” Crowley suggested.

The two were currently at home, preparing for the trip. They intended to stay at least a few days, both to make sure Elizabeth was really okay and because they wanted to try everything possible. Aziraphale was really the one doing most of the preparing part. Crowley was coiled up on the bed as a snake on the electric heating blanket, making conversation, and pointing out things that they might need. Aziraphale didn't mind, as Crowley had a tendency to overpack but forgot the actually important things. 

“It's possible, I suppose. You could try and look into it, if you like. I doubt you'll find much though,” Aziraphale said, finally closing the suitcase. “I believe that's all we need. Are you ready?” 

Crowley let himself morph back into his normal form. He snapped his fingers and the blanket he was just laying on was folded neatly in his arms. “Ready.”

They walked out to the Bentley and loaded the car. They both got in and with a bit of effort, the car and everything in it was suddenly in a New York parking lot.

“I love how convenient that is,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale hummed. “Find a hotel room and then go see Elizabeth?”

“Sounds good,” Crowley agreed.

The couple drove for a bit, finding a hotel with a vacant room pretty quickly. Before long, the two were getting Elizabeth’s address from Anathema and driving there.

They knocked on the wooden door and waited for a moment. “Coming!”

The door opened to reveal a woman with brown hair who looked disheveled.

“Elizabeth?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yeah, that's me. Do I know you?” Elizabeth asked.

“We're Anathema’s friends,” Crowley explained.

“Oh. Yes, she told me you’d be dropping by. Ezra and Anthony, right?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yep,” Aziraphale confirmed. “We brought you cookies.”

He offered her a plastic container with sugar cookies inside. 

She took the container and smiled, opening the door wide enough for them to come in. Aziraphale had no problems, but Crowley smacked into an invisible wall. He blinked and looked down. Salt. 

Aziraphale followed his gaze and his eyes widened. He made sure Elizabeth wasn't looking and quickly broke the line with his foot, miracling it back after Crowley got in. 

“So, Elizabeth, why the salt?” Aziraphale asked.

“You can just call me Lizzie. Anathema taught me. Haven't had any run ins with ghosts or demons before but.. The circumstances surrounding their deaths? It just seems weird and well, better safe than sorry right?” Elizabeth answered.

“Right. Yeah,” Crowley agreed, suddenly feeling immensely out of place.

“So, how are you feeling, Lizzie?” Aziraphale asked.

~~~~

Sam and Dean walked up to the newest crime scene, another teacher from the same school, dead. They showed the police officer their fake FBI badges, the officer then letting them in.

“So, what are they thinking happened?” Dean asked.

“All the electronics in the room exploded. Wire electrocuted her. Third death in a row,” the officer explained.

“Mind if we take a look around?” Sam asked. 

“Go ahead,” the officer shrugged and gestured around the room.

Both brothers made their way through the room, careful not to touch any wires. Just like the last times, there was no hex bags or magic coin or sulfur.

“So definitely dealing with a ghost,” Sam said.

“If it even is one of ours,” Dean said.

“When is it not?” Sam responded.

Dean just hummed.


	3. Ineffable Teachers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ineffable Husbands as teachers shenanigans, the crossover part finally happens.

“So I did some digging and it turns out, all three teachers taught Lizzie,” Crowley said, placing his computer in front of Aziraphale, who had been reading.

“I’m sure they taught a lot of people, Love,” Aziraphale reasoned.

“Yeah, probably, but what if it's an actual connection? I mean, they haven't struck anyone else and they were the only three teachers on the staff that have stayed around that long,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale put down his book and looked through the information on Crowley’s computer. “Okay, well what do you propose we do about it?”

“Glad you asked! I say we go in and do our own investigation as teachers,” Crowley proposed. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at him so Crowley continued, “We did well with Warlock, didn't we? And we won't be there for long. How bad can it be?”

~~~~

Turns out, being a teacher to a bunch of eighth graders was a nightmare. Aziraphale and Crowley got the jobs easily, not a whole lot of other people were jumping at the chance to sub for teachers who got murdered or just a school that had a history or recent murders, really. 

But the kids were a whole other problem altogether. They were noisy and didn't listen. It was only the first half of the day and Crowley already had to send two people out in the hall, prevent a fight, and dodge incredibly morbid questions about the other teachers’ deaths. 

Aziraphale, who looked much softer and was more lenient, had a worse time. Nobody would be quiet and they all tried to pull the ‘our normal teacher lets us do that’ half a dozen times already. He was filling in for Lizzie, who gave him a rundown of her normal schedule and rules and Aziraphale could say for certain that Lizzie definitely did not let the students have soda in the classroom. 

Aziraphale definitely felt something weird about the classroom, though he couldn't tell if it was just the students feeling unsafe or something more supernatural. The whole school felt spooky, in fact. Though as the day progressed, he got used to it. That or the spooky feeling went away. 

Crowley, despite all the chaotic nonsense that came with being a substitute teacher, rather liked the job. The students asked questions and Crowley was happy to answer. The building definitely had something odd about it, but it wasn't that intense. He might have even said that he was used to this sort of energy. 

“So why do you wear those sunglasses?” one of the students asked. He was at Crowley’s desk originally to ask a question about the worksheet and had asked just after Crowley was done helping him.

Suddenly, Crowley felt the aura of the room grow more aggressive. Quickly, he answered, “Sensitive to light. Hold on a moment.”

He got up from his seat and headed towards a small group of boys and girls. 

“Why are you pretending to be a girl? You're obviously not one,” one of the boys said.

“I’m not pretending,” said a girl in the center of the circle. Her hair was short and blonde. She wore a soft pink sweater with black leggings and grey boots and seemed like she was trying to focus on her work.

Crowley had made a special mental note to remember her name when she came up to his desk before class and had asked him to call her Lillian with she and her pronouns. She pointed out herself on the roster and Crowley corrected the paper.

“Is there a problem here?” Crowley asked, placing his palms on one of the boys’ desks maybe a little louder than necessary. 

“No, just a little friendly conversation,” one of the girls answered.

“Last time I checked, friendly wasn't picking at someone for their gender orientation,” Crowley said. “And most of you haven't turned your worksheet in anyway. That was a prerequisite for talking to your friends. All of you separate and if I see you doing this to anyone else, you’ll get detention. Am I clear?”

There was some embarrassed mutterings of yes, but mostly annoyance. Nevertheless, they all went back to their own desks and left Lillian alone. Crowley patted her shoulder and told her quietly, “If they try to pick on you again, in or out of class, come find me, okay?”  
Lillian nodded.

~~~~

It was the last class of the day, creative writing, and Aziraphale reviewed the previous day's work with the students and then gave them a new assignment, writing something about a change they made to their life, which inevitably became one of those trademark Teacher Rambles where Aziraphale shared an example of his own life.   
“My husband-” he started.

“Husband? You're gay?” one of the students blurted. 

“Not exactly, neither of us really have any personal attachment to a specific gender. But if you'd like to look at it that way, yes. Anyway, my husband and I.. Worked for rival companies. We ended up working together and becoming friends. Of course, neither company really liked that, but they couldn't do anything because of one reason or another. We both eventually ended up quitting and it changed our lives in a big way. Of course, your stories don't have to be as dramatic, it's just an example,” Aziraphale said.

One student raised her hand. Aziraphale called on her. “That reminds me of something my mom once said..”

Lots of those Teacher Rambles that everyone knows about tend to become Class Rambles where everyone shared their stories and got off topic. This was one of those.

Soon enough, the final dismissal bell rang. About half an hour later, every student who wasn't staying for an extracurricular activity had gone home. Aziraphale retrieved all the necessary papers and grading material and walked to Crowley’s room so that they could go over what they had found out and got some grading done at the same time.

He entered the room, Crowley looked up and smiled at him, taking off his glasses. “Finally, I haven't seen you in ages!”

“We saw each other at lunch, Love,” Aziraphale smiled and pulled up one of the computer chairs to sit beside Crowley.

“Feels like ages,” Crowley said, leaning his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder momentarily before looking through his pile of already graded papers and pulling one out. “Look, it's ridiculous how badly these kids can mess up something so easy! It even specifies in the question to find the answer without any remainder but there are so many of them who don't read directions!”

Aziraphale hummed, letting Crowley rant about all the things that had happened in the day, hands intertwined and content. There was a knock at the door and Crowley scrambled to put his sunglasses back on. Once they were both sure they didn't look conspicuous, Crowley called “Come in.”

The door opened and in walked two men.

“Agents Isaac McKinley and Andrew Michealson, FBI. We have some questions, if you don't mind,” the first one said, both flashing their badges. He had shoulder length brown hair.

“Sure, pull up a chair,” Crowley offered the two. 

The two obliged, and took two chairs from the desks, pulling them up to the opposite side of Crowley’s desk.

“So, how long have you been here?” Agent McKinley, a man with cropped brown hair asked.

“Today is our first day of subbing for our respective teachers,” Aziraphale answered. “Ezra Fell, nice to meet you.”

“Anthony J. Crowley,” Crowley said.

“That's… An interesting name. Any relation to a Crowley?” McKinley asked, pronouncing the ow differently than Crowley introduced himself.

Crowley could only think of one person with the name other than himself, a minor crossroads demon who’d stolen his name early on in his career, a few hundred years prior. This demon probably wasn't the person they were talking about and even if he was, the two weren't related in the slightest. Crowley the snake demon didn't even like Crowley the crossroads demon.

“No,” Crowley answered. 

“Did you know any of the victims?” Agent Michealson, the one with the longer hair, asked.

“No to that too. We were just passing through when we heard about this. Really unfortunate,” Crowley answered.

McKinley hummed. “Have you noticed anything.. Weird? Like cold spots or strange smells? Sulfur maybe? Students acting odd?”

Aziraphale blinked. Realization crossed Crowley’s face. “You're hunters, aren't you?”

“What? No?” Michealson answered, not sounding all that sure of himself. 

“Yeah you are! Nobody else asks about sulfur or cold spots in a murder investigation,” Crowley said.

“Well, it would make sense for hunters to go after a case like this. We're here, aren't we, Love?” Aziraphale said.

“Yeah, fine. Sam and Dean Winchester,” the one with the longer hair said, gesturing to himself and then the other one. “Are you two hunters too?”

“Not quite. A friend of ours mentioned the deaths and, well, long story short, we're here trying to figure out what's going on,” Aziraphale explained. 

Crowley snapped his fingers and a black folder materialized. He slid it over to the two brothers. “This is all we have so far.”

Dean looked from the folder to Crowley. “You sure you’re not related to Crowley?”

“You’re referring to the crossroads demon right? Never met the guy, but he stole my name and can’t even pronounce it correctly. I don't like him, forget being related to him. We’re both demons and we both have similar names, but that's where the similarities end,” Crowley said, huffing and crossing his arms.

“He.. Has a lot of feelings on the subject,” Aziraphale said and patted his husband’s hand.

“A demon,” Sam repeated.

“Relax. If I wanted to hurt you I would've done it already. And Aziraphale certainly wouldn't have married me if I chased every hunter I came across,” Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand in his own. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth to protest but found that he couldn't. In all honesty, Crowley’s relative pacifism was the only reason he didn't cut him off right at the Garden of Eden. He was different than the others, he actually cared, he liked humanity. His fault was that he had free will when the Almighty deemed that dangerous. So that statement, when analyzed down to it's core was true.

“Aziraphale isn't really a human name either, though,” Sam noted.

“No, I’m actually an angel,” Aziraphale said simply.

You could almost see the mental confusion. Sure their Crowley and Castiel had worked together, but they couldn't even really be considered friends.

“It's a very, very long story,” Aziraphale said.

“How do we know we can trust you?” Dean asked.

Crowley shrugged. “Guess you don't.”

“You're not very reassuring, Dear,” Aziraphale said.

“‘Least I’m honest,” Crowley said. He created a small card and handed it to Dean. “Here's our numbers if you find anything. You should probably call me first, Angel’s bad at operating a phone.”  
“No I’m not!” Aziraphale argued. 

Crowley fished his phone out of his pocket. “Get to the home screen.”

Aziraphale stared at the device for a moment and then proceeded to press all the buttons on the sides. “..This isn't fair, you have a different model than I do.”

Crowley held out his hand for his phone back. Aziraphale gave it to him. “So do you two have numbers we can contact you at?”

“Yeah, here,” Sam said and then handed Crowley a slip of paper with two numbers printed on it. 

“Thanks. That all?” Crowley asked.

“Yeah, that's it. Thanks for your time,” Dean said, putting Crowley’s card in his pocket and taking the black folder given to them.

The two brothers left the room. 

“That was a very interesting conversation, wasn't it?” Aziraphale commented.

“Sure was,” Crowley agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My phone is dying,,, but they've all finally met!! This chapter is really self indulgent but i hope you like it anyway. It was fun to write. In other news, I'm cross posting this on Wattpad and Fanfiction.net under the same name as is on here. They should both be up within the hour!


	4. Chapter 4

The fourth victim was a woman named Holly. Lizzie and Holly were in the same year in school. They didn't know each other well but ran in some of the same social circles. Holly was more than a little bit of a jerk. She didn't change much after graduation, marrying a rich man and having kids together. She was an all around Karen. 

When she was found dead, Lizzie remembered something. There was a boy in their grade named Sidney. He was quiet and an easy target. Sophomore year, he’d been found dead, wrists slit, on the bathroom floor. 

“Hey, so this is gonna sound weird, but do you believe in ghosts?” Lizzie asked.

She called Crowley the moment after she realized this, wanting to know if there was a possibility.

“I mean, you hang around with Anathema so it’d be kinda weird if you didn't but I just wanted to check before I started rambling about them,” Lizzie said.

“Yeah. What about them?” Crowley asked.

“Well, there was this guy I knew of back in high school? He committed suicide and I think he might be getting back at everyone who hurt him,” Lizzie explained.

Crowley hummed. “What was his name?”

“Sidney Perham,” Lizzie answered.

“Got it. I’ll look into it, okay? Let me know if you find anything else,” Crowley said.

“Okay,” Lizzie said.

Crowley hung up.

~~~~

Crowley put his phone back in his pocket and waited for his order to be called. He was getting a cheesecake for him and Aziraphale because he found a bakery that neither of them had been to before. It would be a nice surprise for his husband. 

His order was finally called. Crowley got up, paid, and walked out with the cake in hand when he heard someone calling from the street.

“Crowley,” it was Sam and Dean.

Crowley, noting the conversation opener, changed direction from his car to the two brothers walking towards him.

“Yeah, that's my name. What’d you need?” Crowley asked.

“Any new info? We think we have something, but since you're here, might as well check with you,” Sam asked.

“Well I was going to wait to call you until I got back to the room, but yeah, a name for our potential ghost,” Crowley said. 

“Well tell us then,” Dean said.

“Pushy,” Crowley muttered. He then raised his volume and continued, “Sidney Perham. Friend of a friend says that the guy killed himself and is now probably looking to hurt the people who hurt him.”

“We came up with the same name. We're on our way now, actually,” Sam said.

“Great, let me join you,” Crowley said.

“What? Why?” Dean questioned.

“Because I did not get a job as a teacher only to contribute nothing to the defeat of what I came here for in the first place,” Crowley responded. “Now are we going or not?”

~~~~

The Winchester’s car was nice, Crowley decided. It was old but well cared for and had waves of love flowing off of it that even Crowley could feel (no doubt it could drown Aziraphale if he were there). 

About three Metallica songs in, Crowley got tired of the music and changed it to Queen. Dean was very not happy about this. The music choice may or may not have started a fight between the two which inevitably lead to Sam shutting off the music entirely, the three riding in silence for a while.

Crowley watched the scenery pass, picking up his phone now and then to answer a text from Aziraphale. It wasn't a very serious conversation, and neither felt the need to respond as quickly as possible but the buzzing in his coat pocket never failed to make Crowley light up. The brothers sometimes caught sight of this in the rearview mirror, the behavior making them rethink everything they knew about demons. Maybe, just like angels, there were some that cared about more than themselves and their goals.

Aziraphale and Crowley really were an odd pair.

Slowly, it got dark. The cemetery seemed to be farther away than they had estimated. Or they left later than they thought they did. At this point, the brothers couldn't tell. It was quiet.

Until it wasn’t. Loud ringing came from the back seat.

“Hello?” Crowley answered.

Lizzie’s voice came on the other end of the line. “I heard a crash and it got cold all of a sudden. Anthony, the ghost is here.”

Crowley cursed quietly and then addressed Lizzie. “Okay, can you get to the kitchen?”

“Yeah, I think so. Salt circle, right?” Lizzie asked.

“Exactly. I’m gonna send Ezra over, he’ll be able to get to you faster than I could. For your own sanity, don't question anything he does. We’ll explain later, okay?” Crowley told her.

“Okay?” Lizzie responded. 

Crowley hung up the phone and scrambled to find Aziraphale’s contact.

“What's going on?” Sam asked.

“Ghost’s at another person’s house. Can't this thing go any faster?!” Crowley asked.

Crowley clicked the call button in Aziraphale’s contact. He was quiet for a moment and then Aziraphale picked up.

“You need to get over to Lizzie’s, quickly. Ghostie is there and violent. I’m with the Winchesters, taking care of the root of the problem. I told her I'd send you and not to question anything yet, how fast can you get there?” Crowley explained.

There was silence on the other end for a second and then there was a flutter of feathers and wind rushing past on the other end of the line. “See you soon, Love.”

The call ended there.

~~~~

“Lizzie? Lizzie are you here?” Aziraphale called out.

“In- in here!” Lizzie was frightened. The spirit was close to her, Aziraphale could sense it.

Evidently, Lizzie had been trying to get to the kitchen for the salt but had been pinned by the ghost. Aziraphale bolted for the woman and the angry spirit in front of her. The spirit, either angry enough not to care or assuming he was stronger than the angel, didn't back down.

Aziraphale didn't let up. A dark, wing shaped shadow cast across the room, Aziraphale’s effort at intimidating the ghost without scaring Lizzie. The ghost, backed down, seconds later going up in flames.

Aziraphale turned to Lizzie. “Are you okay?” 

“What was that? And how’d you get in? Where’d you get in? How’d you get here so fast? I- I have so many questions,” Lizzie said.

“I can answer them all, but right now you’re shaken up and scared. You should calm down before I explain, okay? I’ll make us some tea, just go sit down and rest,” Aziraphale told her.

Lizzie, though reluctantly, went back to the living room and sat on her couch.

~~~~

Crowley sat on the ground and watched as the bones burned to ash, ready to light it up again if the flames went out.

“Well that was a thing,” Crowley commented.

“That's one way to describe it,” Dean said.

Crowley retrieved his phone from his pocket, dialing Aziraphale again.

“Hey, Angel. Everything work out okay over there?” Crowley asked, getting up and dusting himself off.

“For the most part,” Aziraphale said. “Though we have a lot to explain.”

“Oh, not like we didn't expect that,” Crowley said.

“True. Maybe you should get over here and help me out?” Aziraphale suggested.

“Sure. Be there soon. Love you,” Crowley said.

“Love you too,” Aziraphale said.

The call ended.

“Think you'll be good from here on?” Crowley asked the brothers. 

“We’ll be fine,” Sam responded.

And with that, Crowley vanished.

~~~~

It was Saturday, the last day that the Winchesters planned to stay. They sat at a local Steak n Shake with Aziraphale and Crowley.

After putting the ghost to rest, they'd gone back to their hotel, gotten dinner, and gone to sleep, waking up to a lunch invitation from the older couple as a last goodbye.

“So what do you plan to do after this?” Sam asked.

Crowley hummed. “Well, Lizzie’s going back to her job as english teacher after the weekend is up but we were thinking of staying until they found a permanent math teacher. I actually rather like teaching, turns out.”

Aziraphale nodded. “It's a nice change of pace, actually. The quiet is nice but being in the city is kind of exciting.”

“What about you two?” Crowley asked.

“Go back to hunting. Have a big case going on at the moment, we're sure we can take it but it’s going to be hard. Ever heard the name Leviathan?” Sam asked.

The couple shared a wide eyed look.

“The leviathans are vile creatures. They’ve been released?” Crowley asked, horrified.

“Yeah,” Dean answered.

“Do you at least have backup? You don't plan on taking them on alone, do you?” Aziraphale asked.

“We’ll be fine. We’ll call if we need help. We have both your numbers, we’ll be okay,” Sam reassured them.

Neither looked comforted.

“Alright. Well, be safe out there, would you?” Crowley requested.

“We’ll try,” Dean said and then stood up. “On that note, we should probably get headed out.”

“Us too. See you sometime,” Crowley said.

“See you.”

The two pairs parted ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theres the last chapter!! I may or may not make a sequel or a spin off where the Ineffable Husbands meet Castiel and/or Supernatural's Crowley because thats a thing I want to do. Sorry for all the weirdness, I had a freak out where i accidentally made a duplicate chapter and I thought it was an actual chapter I forgot to upload.

**Author's Note:**

> This whole story was written on impulse. I don't know what I'm doing. I won't have a consistent update schedule. Will probably post chapters as soon as I write them instead of pacing them. I hope whoever decides to read this likes it anyway. I'm sorry in advance. Also I'm very aware that not a lot of people like OCs. Elizabeth is just a plot device and won't show up very often. I do have all the plot planned out so it'll be easier to write this. Anyway, if you have questions feel free to ask.


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